


Anniversaries

by c7a8t9



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6072355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c7a8t9/pseuds/c7a8t9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna and Josh post-series. Two ideas combined in to one short piece. </p>
<p>Josh and Donna have a lot of anniversaries. Some of them are happy, others less so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversaries

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before I had even finished watching The West Wing, that's how attached I got to these characters. Originally posted on tumblr.

That first May, when the cherry blossoms had all fallen and been swept away by the breeze, she booked a little getaway. Just the two of them, at a resort in San Francisco.

The week before, getting dressed one morning, he had been going on and on about the new legislative agenda they were trying to get off the ground when he suddenly stopped talking. Rolling over on her side in bed, she saw him at the mirror, running his fingertips over the scars on his chest. The day before, she had caught herself doing the same thing.

“What are you going to do about the education budget? The Speaker will never let them vote that out of committee" she asked.

He started. “What? The… sorry, yeah, we’re going to meet with… the, uh, the team about that.”

That night, they dug the wedding cake out of the back of the fridge, ignoring the fact that it was freezer burnt beyond recognition. They exchanged books, sticking to the first anniversary “paper” tradition. The wedding had felt so strange to her, because they had been married in all the ways that really mattered for years before the actual event. This was the part she liked: just being together, trying to one-up each other on book inscriptions, and pretending to enjoy old cake.

They were together in bed that night, but each of them was alone with their thoughts. When they booked the wedding, it was about convenience, scheduling. May 11th worked for family and friends, avoided campaign seasons, and so they agreed on it without discussion. Neither wanted to admit that, after so many years, they were still counting the days from Rosslyn and Gaza. 

The next day, she informed him there was one more paper present, and gave him their tickets for San Francisco. She picked the city for a reason, and she figured she might as well be honest about it. She expected a fight, but he just said “Thank you”.

And so after the couples massage and the Giants-Mets game and a trolley tour, there was an appointment for each of them to visit Stanley Keyworth.

She waited outside his office. Josh emerged with red-rimmed eyes.

“Hey” he said, immediately forcing a smile, “Your turn. I’ll be right here.”

“Are you sure? You look so tired. Go back to the hotel and rest, I’ll call you when…”

“I’ll be right here.”

That evening, they ordered in and lay next to each other on the couch in the hotel room, telling stories about their days in the Bartlet White House. She was careful not to be the first one to mention Leo’s name. The memories poured out of both of them. They stayed up way too late, remembering together.

They spent their next few anniversaries in San Francisco.

Years later, she woke him in the middle of the night.

“I’m in labor. We have to go.”

They were tripping over themselves trying to slow down, remain calm. Tremulous with anticipation, giddy with nerves, they hurried ever so carefully.

“You are to stop at all red lights, do you hear me? This isn’t an emergency, but if we get pulled over it will become one, understand?”

He did as he was told.

As they walked side by side across the parking lot, she suddenly froze. Half a step later, he did too.

The red EMERGENCY sign illuminated their faces and somewhere nearby the shrill blare of ambulance sirens could be heard. They stared straight through the front doors and beyond, one moment turning into many.

At last, he drew a sharp breath and looked around, expecting to see her ahead of him, not behind.

“Hey,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning so his body was between her and the doors. She found his gaze, snapping back into focus, shaken. “This… is good. This is a good thing. I know we’ve both been… here… when it wasn’t… good. But this is going to be good. This is a very good thing, okay?”

She nodded, then gripped her stomach and winced, blowing out a strained breath with a new contraction.

“Let’s go inside, alright? This baby’s ready. You’re ready,” he paused, “… I’m ready.”

She smiled and reached her arms around him. He was nervous, she knew, about fatherhood, unsure if he was up to the challenge, and scared—though he’d never admit it—about the pain it opened him up to. But he wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t putting on a brave face for her. He leaned to avoid her stomach, wrapping her in his arms and sneaking a quick kiss onto her forehead, before clasping her hand in his and taking a step toward the door.

“Let’s see if Toby was right about the hats” he said, smiling as the automatic doors slid open and they stepped across the threshold.


End file.
